


Eighteen

by KittyBits



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Coming of Age, F/M, M/M, Pining, Sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:06:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyBits/pseuds/KittyBits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is Cas' best friend and he doesn't care that Cas is ten years younger than him, because when they met Cas was the cutest baby ever and he would do anything - anything! - if it helped him growing up.</p>
<p>But Dean can't always be there, and these feelings are growing wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eighteen

**Author's Note:**

> Completely new fic is shiny new.

 

**Zero.**

Dean looks down at the baby Anna presents to the ten-year-old and thinks it's really fucking cute.

Like, how the hell does a new-born have such huge fucking blue eyes and so much black as night hair?

**One.**

Dean plays with the neighbors' kid because it's cute as hell when he gurgles a laugh and when he naps in the afternoon Anna helps Dean with all the stupid fucking math he hates like hell, and tries not to feel pleased when she scolds him for using words like 'fuck' and 'hell' when he's only eleven years old.

Then she curses Dean's father for using that sort of language around his kids and tells Dean to bring Sam next time.

He doesn't really want to, be he brings Sam all ther same.

**Two.**

Cas likes Dean the best of him and Sam, and it makes Dean grin his shit-eating grin while Sam huffs and goes to sit by the apple tree reading one of his ridiculously big books that he shouldn't be old enough to read. And Dean goes back to playing with Cas and claps and cheers loudly, grinning, when Cas picks up the ball and walks over to hand it to Dean with a big smile.

He says, ”Dean,” proudly.

”Cas,” Dean replies and holds a hand out for the ball.

”Catch,” Cas demands and throws the ball in a soft loop Dean catches easily.

Cas beams.

**Three.**

Dean's favorite play-time isn't drawing with crayons. It is steadily growing to be Cas' though, so he does it anyway, drawing out-of-shape airplanes and robots and tigers and lions and trades them with Cas' versions of the same.

Dean knows it's stupid, but he still kind of thinks Cas' drawings are better than his.

Cassie breaks up with him, saying he doesn't spend enough time with her, and when he finally does, he 'doesn't really seem to be into it'. He shrugs and is kind of relieved he can end their date early.

**Four.**

The drawing Cas hands him has DEAN in big letters at the bottom. The E has four lines instead of three and the N is backwards but Dean has never felt more proud in his life.

”This is amazing Cas, did you do it all by yourself?”

”Yes,” Cas says with a serene smile. ”Mom helped spelling.”

”But you wrote this?” Dean reaffirms and Cas nods. ”God, you're so smart, I couldn't even write my own name till i was five years old – six maybe!”

”Don't take the Lord's name in vain,” Cas says sternly and looks so much like Michael, sounding so much like him as he can with his small, childish voice.

”Sorry, I forget,” Dean apologizes and Cas is the only one Dean apologizes to on a regular basis.

”It's okay,” Cas says and pats his arm before resuming drawing. He looks up at Dean after a while and regards him with eerily intelligent eyes. ”You're not stupid,” he then says and Dean laughs and tells him thank you and that he really hopes not.

**Five.**

”Castiel's teacher told me she thought you were his imaginary friend,” Anna says an afternoon when Dean is getting drinks for him and Cas. ”He apparently draws you a lot.”

”Yeah?” Dean can't help the grin. Cas is awesome.

”Yes. He doesn't spend very much time with his classmates though.” She stirs her cup of coffee, looking down at it deep in thought before looking up to meet his gaze. ”Do you think you can talk to him perhaps?”

”Sure,” Dean tells her and immediately goes to Cas. ”Cas, you're my best friend,” he says, and Cas looks at him with wide eyes and a growing smile. ”But you know how you're not my only friend, right? Remember Ash and Jo?”

”Sure,” Cas says, smile waning as he takes the glass of water from Dean's hand.

”Well, I think you should try and get some friends too. Your mom says you don't talk to the at kids school, I think you should do that.”

He takes a sip of his own glass of water as he waits for Cas' reaction.

”I don't know how,” the boy finally admits and Dean smiles softly to him.

”Then I'll teach you.”

**Six.**

Lisa is a great kisser, but she's boring as hell when Dean have to leave her mouth alone to gasp a few panting breaths.

She talks all the time about her friends and being a cheerleader and Dean is really only with her because he's on the football team and he feels like he should.

He would much prefer to spend time with Cas or Ash and Jo. But Cas it as some birthday party for his friend Andy and Ash and Jo is standing in line somewhere, waiting for some computer game to come out.

And really, Sam is the Winchester geek – Dean wouldn't be caught dead in a store like the one Ash kept telling him about at lunch.

He thinks he's going to ask Cas to a sleepover during the weekend. Anna has been hinting at it for a while and Dean really likes the idea.

He has a lot of music and movies he wants to show Cas, and yeah they're all a bit above his age, but Dean will find the tame ones and ease him into it.

That what best friends do. And there are a ton of important Disney movies that Micheal Novak doesn't approve of.

And then he silents Lisa with his mouth again, sliding a hand up under her t-shirt to cup her bra.

He's thinking Saturday will be a good day.

**Seven.**

”You never have time for me anymore,” Cas complains an afternoon, lying on Dean's bed, flipping through the copy of Hamlet Dean's supposed to have read for the report he's supposed to be in the middle of putting together.

”I'm sorry, you now I am, Cas, but I'm just so fucking busy. But I'm here now, aren't I?” He flips to his stomach and pokes Cas in the side. He shifts away a bit.

”Your grammar is horrible,” Cas says and scrounges up his face in a frown.

”You're just proud because you learned a new word,” Dean says and grins when Cas sticks his tongue out at him.

”I know more words than you,” he shoots back at Dean who shrugs in silent agreement. ”I heard a new word today I didn't understand though.” He falls quiet after admitting that and Dean raises his eyebrows at him, waiting for him to continue.

”What was it?” he asks when Cas stays quiet.

”Homo,” Cas says so silently Dean almost can't hear it and the way he says it makes alarm-bells go off in his head immediately.

”Who said that?” he demands to know.

”No one,” Cas says back and looks stubbornly down at the book.

”Did they say it to you?”

”Will you just tell me what it means?” Cas asks and gives Dean an oddly sad look.

”Homosexuals like their own gender. Like, girls who likes girls and boys who likes boys,” Dean says pedagogically.

“I like you, you're a boy,” Cas says and looks confused.

“Yeah, not like that. I suppose I didn't put it clear enough. Girls who wants to kiss girls and boys who wants to do the same to other boys.”

“Oh.” Cas strokes a hand over one of the pages of Hamlet and Dean watches him carefully.

“Some people – mean people – likes to say it to make others upset. But you shouldn't listen to them, gay people are awesome. Gay is another word for homosexual.” Cas nods and bites his lip, it makes Dean's inside tighten up uncomfortable. “Next time someone says something mean to you again, will you please tell me so I can beat the shit out of them?”

Cas gives a breathy chuckle. “Sure,” he says, but they both know he lies.

**Eight.**

“I hate you!”

“I'm sorry Cas, but please don't say shit like that – it really hurts!”

“Fat chance, I really do hate you.” Cas slams his door in Dean's face, and he clenches his jaw, his fists at his side, before raising a hand to knock on the door, even though he knows Cas is leaning against it on the other side.

“I'm sorry Cas,” he says to him, hoping his voice will carry through the tree. “But Bobby is giving me a big opportunity with this. You know how much I love cars and he knows fucking _everything_ there is to know about them. And the classics too! Even you know how awesome the classics are, and you're almost as bad at car as Sammy.” He hears a thump on the other side of the door, Cas sliding to the floor. “Cas?”

“Continue trying to explain,” he hears Cas says on the other sided, voice only slightly muffled so he sits down too and continues.

“I'll call all the time. Or every night at least. And we can send letters, you know – snail-mail and shit, you'd love that, I know you would.” He hears a snort from Cas and smiles. “Bobby said he would let me restore a car of my own in my free time. He'll take care of the expenses. He wants to see how good I am. When I'm done with it, how do you feel about me driving down here and pick you up from school? Your dorky imaginary friend – and don't pretend they don't call me that, I'm not fucking stupid, Cas! Where was I? Oh, yeah. Your dorky imaginary friend suddenly not so dorky and very _not_ imaginary anymore.” He hears shuffling from Cas' room and stops talking; smiling up when the door is opened and Cas peers down at him.

“I don't need you to save me,” he tells Dean calmly. “And if you come in a Cadillac I will pretend that I don't know you.” Dean grins.

“Am I forgiven?” he asks hopefully and Cas scowls.

“You're moving to South Dakota. That's a six hour drive! I'm never going to forgive you, and why does your father even have a friend living way up there?”

“Sorry,” is all Dean can say, because hell if he knew, but from what he's deduced from the few times he's met Bobby and talking with him on the phone this last few weeks, Bobby's a pretty cool guy.

“But you need to come in and write your new address down for me. And I'm checking with Sam later that you didn't put it down wrong by mistake, so don't make any mistakes or it'll be even longer before I forgive you!”

“I sure as hell wouldn't want that.”

**Nine.**

“So, your mother tells me you've skipped another grade, how's that going for you?” Dean asks and ignores the curious looks Rufus is shooting him. The other mechanics is used to Dean's phone calls by now, but Rufus been out of state since forever, and it took several months in the beginning before Dean felt secure enough to chat with Cas outside the safety of his room.

“ _Everyone are morons_ ,” Cas voice sounds over the line and Dean can practically see him frown.

“You know what rhymes with morons? Mormons!” Rufus chuckles and Bobby just shakes his head disparagingly.

“ _That isn't funny, Dean_ ,” Cas says but Dean grins anyway.

“You're still smiling though,” he says back and Cas' snort totally tells Dean he's right.

“ _It's true though, I'm afraid that when they made me jump up another grade they put me in the Special Class. There is not a single one of my new classmates that aren't a certified idiot_.”

“Such big words,” Dean says with a mock-impressed tone of voice, although he actually is fucking impressed. Cas is so smart it makes Dean's head hurt trying to grasp it. “And you know what rhymes with idiot?”

“ _Dean, come on-_ ”

“Abricot!” Rufus barks out a sharp laugh and chokes on his beer. Bobby pats his back roughly when he starts coughing. Dean leaves the room to get away from the noise and hears a low chuckle coming from Cas.

“ _You're an imbecile, Dean_ ,” he says and Dean recognizes the challenge that it is.

“Imbicile rhymes with,” he starts and trails of. What the hell rhymes with imbicile? “Missile?” he tries, but it doesn't sit right in his mouth – too few syllables and it's a stupid word anyway. “Fuck imbicile, why couldn't you have called me stupid? You know what rhymes with stupid?”

“ _Cupid._ ”

“Smartass.”

**Ten.**

“ _Why do we never talk about what you do up there? Why is it always me we talk about_?” Cas asks and Dean isn't sure what to say to that.

“Not a lot happening up here,” he starts and sorts quickly through his thoughts before letting anything slip that should not be slipped. “I hang out with old men a lot, sometimes we fix cars, sometimes I listen to them bitch about shit. I'm learning a lot.”

_I learned that I really like men, do you understand that Cas? Remember that talk we had once about homosexuals. I'm one apparently._

_There's this gay bar in the next town where I go sometimes during the weekends. I find some pretty thing and gets him to suck me off in the alley out back. Maybe I fuck him, maybe he fucks me._

_Some have black hair. Some have blue eyes._

_It makes me sick to think about._

_I miss you._

“ _That wasn't what I meant_ ,” Cas says and Dean almost forgot they were on the phone.

“Yeah? What did you mean then?”

“ _I meant how are you feeling? Are you happy?_ ”

Yes.

No.

Dean isn't sure.

“I miss you,” he says and smiles sadly down at his feet. “I miss my best friend.”

_When your best friend is ten years younger than you, who do you talk to about shit like this?_

“ _I miss you too.”_

**Eleven.**

“What do you mean 'they wouldn't let you join'?” Deans asks furiously and looks Cas up and down. “It's not like your in poor shape or anything, an I bet you can outrun anyone of those lazy-ass motherfuckers!”

“Dean,” Cas objects with horrified and wide eyes.

“Sorry,” Dean says, but he isn't, not really. “I'm just fucking pissed. What reason did they give you, and they had fucking better given you one I'll have words with that douche bag coach of theirs.”

“Apparently I'm too young, and I suppose that's true, but I'm also a lot smarter than all of them, and I mean _all,_ if they just let me plan the strategies it would help, even if I wasn't an active participant. I practiced with Sam for _weeks_.”

“I know,” Dean grumbles and drapes and arms around Cas' shoulders, pulls him in against his chest so he can hide the hurt for him. “But I mean it, if you want to I can go have words with that coach guy, he sounds like he could use some firm words.”

“It's fine,” Cas mutters against Dean's shirt, and Dean realizes he's too old to cry now, as Cas' small hands clench his bumbled up shirt until his knuckles turns white.

“A'right then,” Dean says back and smooths a hand over Cas' dorky haircut.

“Why is it important that I'm a fast runner anyway?” Cas asks.

“Isn't it obvious?” Dean asks back and smirks to the top of Cas' head. “They're the Mathletes, they're so unpopular you'll have to be quick to outrun all the bullies.”

He receives a kick to his shin for that but the small smile he spots Cas trying to quell when he pulls back makes it all worth it.

**Twelve.**

“ _They kept him locked up in the locker for two hours, Dean._ Two hours! _He never told us it was this bad, he never said a thing_.” Anna's voice sounds teary over the line, wet like she's been crying and is now clutching a handkerchief in one hand while keeping the phone pressed to her ear with the other.

She sounds like Dean should know what to do.

“ _I don't know what to do_ ,” she continues and Dean tries not to sigh too loudly. “ _And Michael isn't any help._ ”

“Let me talk to him, let me talk to Cas,” he interrupts before Anna can start on how unhelpful Michael is being with everything. Dean already knows this, knows how distant he is and how much Cas loathes him and aches for his approval.

And twelve-year-old should not have to go through this.

“ _Sure,_ ” Anna replies, and Dean listens quietly, hears her ascend the stairs, walk down the hallway, stop in front of Cas' door and knocking on it softly.

“ _Go away_ ,” he then hears Cas call and it makes his heart want to shrivel up and die.

“ _Dean's on the phone_ ,” Anna says calmly and Dean listens with bated breath, suddenly terrified Cas won't want to talk to him either.

The he hears the door open.

“ _Give it here_.” Some shuffling happens, the door closes again. “ _Dean_?”

“Cas, Jesus, how are you? I'm so sorry, you don't even believe how sorry I am, are you alright?” He listens carefully, hears only a choked sound. “Cas?”

“ _No_.” It sounds too strained. “ _I'm not alright, I'm so not alright, I was so scared._ ”

“Shit, Cas I know, I'm so sorry that happened to you, I wish I had been there.” The sobs cut through the line clearly and Dean clenches his jaw at it, tries to will back his own tears at the sound of Cas hurting.

“ _Me too,_ ” Cas says, and he's crying for real now. Loudly, wetly sobbing into the phone and it feels so horrible to be so far away from him.

“Cas, please, Cas,” Dean pleads and he doesn't know for what. “Don't, just... I love you, you know that, right? Just as much as Sam, if not more. You're so much cooler than that big girl.”

Cas cries harder.

Dean feels powerless.

**Thirteen.**

_Dear Dean,_

_I'm so, so sorry for your loss. I'm so sorry for Sam's._

_I know I never met Jessica, but from what you have told about her when you've mentioned her I just know she was an amazing person and... shit. I'm just so sorry._

_I'm sorry I never got to meet her._

_I'm sorry that Sam lost the woman he loved._

_I'm sorry you had to be there in the car with them._

_I'm sorry I'm not there with you now._

_Mom won't let me use the phone and even if I could, I would not know where to call. I' will just send this back to Singer's place and know you probably will not see it before you are back to health and out of the hospital._

_I really wish I was there with you. Not then, but now._

_I miss you._

_Love, Castiel Novak._

**Fourteen.**

“'Sup Shrimp,” Dean says as greeting when he calls the phone number Anna has said would be Cas' new cell phone.

“Hello Dean,” a deep voice replies and it sort of sounds like Michael Novak and he never liked the man.

“Sorry, I think I have the wrong number-”

“ _Dean,_ _it's_ _me,”_ Deep Voice says and Dean frowns at the mountain of canned pinapple before him trying to figure out who _Me_ is when The Voice continues. _“Cas.”_

“Very funny,” Dean says and really, why does one stack cans like this, it's a disaster in waiting. Also, what kind of an idiot does this guy think he is. “I don't have time for this and you, sir, is a very disturbed man-”

“ _Missiles doesn't rhyme with imbicile, but that won't change the fact that you are that so very, very much._ ”

“Cas?” Dean asks incredulously and turns his back to the pineapple cans and the rest of the sho to hide his surprise from the world. “That really you?”

“ _Yes, it is me._ ” It sounds amused.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“ _I woke up like this about a week ago, and it just never stopped. Mom thought I was making fun of her and then when I told her I wasn't she thought I was getting sick. Apparently my body just finally caught up with the fact that I_ am _indeed a teenager_.”

”At last,” Dean says and smirks, feeling confused and amused and disbelieving. “Fuck, you always were a lot older than your age, now you sound it too,” he teases.

” _Did you call with a purpose or did you just want to bask in the deep honey bass of my voice?_ ”

“What the hell have you been reading lately and happy birthday! Did you think I'd forget?”

“ _No. You wouldn't dare. And you really don't want to know what I've been reading lately, but I can assure you I don't do it from pleasure, it's an extra credit I'm doing in Social Studies_.”

“Only you, Cas,” Dean sighs and smiles. “Only you.”

**Fifteen.**

“ _WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN TEACHING MY SON_?” a voice bellows into Dean's ear the moment he answers the call.

“Mr. Novak?” he asks after trying to figure out where he knew the voice from.

“ _Very kind of you to remember who I am, although I must say I'm not surprised by your hesitancy, as apparently you haven't seen me enough and_ apparently _think you need to be the one to raise_ my son-”

“I'm sorry sir, you I have no idea what you're talking-”

“ _Cas was involved in a fight with some of his schoolmates today. Some of his three year_ older _schoolmates, who didn't care that he was one against three-_ ”

“Is he okay?”

“ _Of course he's okay, no thanks to you, the man who taught him to fight in the first place-_ ”

“If Cas is okay after a three-against-one-fight I think it's thanks to me more than-”

“ _He did it to stop them from messing with some other kid, if you hadn't started putting these sort of ideas into his head, he would never get this messed up – do you know how this will look on his college-applications? Cas has a bright future ahead of him, and you Mr. Winchester has done nothing to help that. NOTHING_!”

“Listen, I'm sorry he got involved in this bu-”

“ _NO! I don't want to hear what you have to say, but I want you to hear this: if you ever contact my son again I will file for a restraining order against you. You are nothing but a bad influence on my son, and it sickens me to see how low he has fallen. Keep away from my family, Mr. Winchester. Keep your_ family _away from my family. If I ever see you again, I won't be held responsible for my actions._ ”

Michael Novak ends the call abruptly and the loud click in Dean's ear makes him draw a startled breath; he hadn't been aware he was holding it to begin with.

He puts the phone down and wonder if it really was his fault when he feels his cell vibrate, hears it beep and sees a new message.

_Cas: Im sorry dean my dad sayrsss_

Dean is pretty sure he's fucked to hell.

**Sixteen.**

He shouldn't be here.

He shouldn't, he shouldn't, he shouldn't.

But fuck it, Cas is graduating High School and Dean hasn't seen him in a year and a half and he's staring wildly into the crowd, trying to spot a kid with black hair. Trying to stay out of sight of any red and black-headed couples.

Trying to get just a glimpse.

He can't see him though. Can't see Cas in any of the groups of teenagers in robes laughing and hugging and being relieved and happy, not knowing the easiest part of their lives just ended.

He vaguely wonders if it was any of them that bullied Cas. If any of them made him unhappy, sad.

He wonders if Cas ever dated any of them, if he ever fell in love with someone.

A nearby huddle glances over at Dean and he realizes he should probably get the hell out of there before Michael spots him or someone calls the police because he's a fucking creeper, when one of the guys leaves the huddle and sprints, all gangly limbs, unruly black hair, and big blue eyes and Dean gapes, eyes going wide before he stumbles back, trying to keep his balance with his arms full of Cascascas.

“Cas,” he whispers and tightens his grip around him. “Fuck, Cas.”

“Dean,” Cas says and pulls back, out of the hug and it's too soon, Dean isn't ready to let go yet. “Fuck I missed you.” He's tall, Dean realizes. Almost as tall as him, although not nearly as muscled, built.

“I fucking missed you too, Shrimp.”

“Not a shrimp anymore,” Cas says and smiles almost shyly. “Did you hear my speech?” he asks after a moment of looking Dean up and down, probably trying to memorize as much of him as he can. Dean is doing that to Cas anyway.

“Shit, you held a speech?”

“I'm valedictorian,” Cas says and sounds insulted that it didn't occur to Dean on his own. With good reason Dean supposes.

“If I'd known I would have been here on time,” he objects but Cas narrows his eyes at him anyway.

“I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you.” He crosses his arms over his chest and he looks so strong and confident and beautiful and Dean does a double take.

“I'll do anything,” he says before his brain knows what his mouth is doing, but he doesn't want to take the words back.

“Come to California with me,” Cas demands and he looks so hopeful and young. Dean feels a sick and sudden urge to kiss him.

“California?” he asks to camouflage his inner turmoil.

“I've been accepted to Berkeley on a full scholarship. You know how bad I am with people, I'm going to need knowing at least one person when I arrive or I'll end up as a hermit. You know this is a legit risk.”

“Sure do,” Dean says and in his mind he has already packed his bags and asked Bobby to be transferred to the department in California somewhere, he knows there is one.

“Is that a yes?”

“I could never say no to you.”

**Seventeen.**

Here's not completely sure what his name is, the guy that has him pressed up against the wall next to the door to his flat, but Dean likes the way his hands trail over his skin and the fact that he in no way reminds him of Cas.

Except for the startlingly blue eyes.

But they had been a coincidence.

Really.

Anyway, his hands slide down Dean's front and rubs against his erection and Dean moans into their kiss, wrenches his head away and turns, slides the key into the lock, trying not to get too distracted by AllanAndyBarney's hand still rubbing his erection through his jeans. They stumble directly into the part of his one-bedroom-apartment he uses as his living room and Dean must have forgotten to turn the lights off but then BrockBalthazarClyde's pulling him in for another steaming hot kiss, hand moving to paw at his ass, pushing their hips close so they can rub their erections against each other and Dean bury his hand in hair that isn't long enough pretends that _he just shaved, that's why his cheeks are this smooth_ and it feels goodgoodgoo-

“Dean?” Dean turns against the sound, and smiles lazily when he sees him.

Then he freezes, pulls violently out of CharlieEricJesusChrist's grip.

“Cas?” he asks and feel stupid immediately, because yeah, that's Cas, right there in his apartment looking stunned and hurt and shit what is he even doing there.

What is Dean doing there, really?

“What the- I though you said you didn't have a boyfriend,” the guy says and Dean doesn't care about his name anymore, he doesn't even look at him just stares at Cas trying to figure out what to say. If he can apologize for this.

If he should.

“You're gay?” Cas asks quietly and Dean's mouth open and closes a few helpless times.

“I'm, I, what are you doing here?” he croaks, and wishes he hadn't had so much to drink at the club. The whole world is spinning, except Cas. Cas is the center and the whole world is spinning around him.

“Clearly not your boyfriend then,” Club Thing says drily. Gabriel?

“I think you need to leave,” Dean says, still without looking at him, just staring at Cas. And Gabriel – of course, GabrielbutyoucancallmeGabe – huffs and leaves them, closing the door too harshly behind him on the way out.

Cas and Dean stare at each other in the silence Gabriel leaves behind and Dean can't for the life of him figure out what Cas is thinking. He wishes he knew. He wishes he would say something.

“Cas?”

“You're gay?” Cas asks again and it sounds desperate. “You're a fucking _homosexual_?” Dean flinches. “Why didn't you ever tell me? I thought I was you best friend, you kept saying I was your best friend, that you loved me – why... Why didn't you tell me?”

“Cas,” Dean says, and it's at least as desperate as Cas but pleading too. Pleading for Cas to understandforgiveforget.

“I think I need to leave too,” Cas says and he walks towards Dean, his heart thumps so hard in his chest it almost hurts, and then he passes him and Dean can't stop himself, but reaches out, grabs Cas' arm.

“Cas,” he says and his heart breaks when he sees that Cas is crying. He shouldn't cry. He should never cry. “Cas, I-”

“Let go of me,” Cas says and it's so quiet and soft Dean's fingers act on their own. “I can't right now, I...” He looks at Dean and there's so many questions in his eyes and Dean can't read what they are.

He hopes Cas can see how sorry he is in his eyes.

When he closes the door behind him Dean doubts that he did.

**Eighteen.**

Dean never brings his hook-ups back to his apartment. Not that he needs to be that careful really, because Cas never shows up unannounced again.

Not until he finally does on his birthday and Dean finds him knocking and knows immediately that he's drunk and tomorrow he's going to get the name of those of his new friends that thought it was a good idea to give Cas alcohol when he's still just a kid, not legal to drink anyway and then stumbles back because Cas launches a hit at him and Dean is too deep in thought to dodge the obvious swing.

“You fucking suck,” Cas spits at him, but he walks inside and slams the door closed behind him. “You're gay? How long have you've known you're gay?” He shoves Dean in the chest and Dean let's him, takes a step back to keep his balance. Dean is also caught a bit left-footed by Cas continuing an argument he thought they had 'forgotten' about long ago. “Did you know it back when you told me that homosexuals are boys who likes to kiss boys, huh? For how _fucking long_?”

Cas shoves at him again, and Dean grabs his wrist, pulls him against him, hugs him, and Cas hits him with his fists, slams them into Dean's sides angrily and Dean shushes him and leans in to whisper in his ear, “I didn't know it then, no. I didn't realize until I moved up to Bobby's. I would have told you, but I didn't know how. I'm sorry, I know I should have.”

Cas calms down, his hands winding tightly in Dean's shirt and he hides his face in the crook of Dean's neck.

“Yes, you goddamn should have,” he says quietly, breath wafting over Dean's skin and it makes him shudder. He slumps heavily against Dean who's just so relieved to have him here, the air between them feels clear of anger and it's almost, _almost_ like _that_ never happened.

“Let's get you to bed,” he says and manhandles Cas over to the corner, to his queen, putting him down slowly and Cas falls back onto the comforter as soon as Dean let's him go. He crouches down to take Cas' shoes off and when Dean glances up at him he's watching him so intently it makes his palm sweat. “Sleep as long as you can and I'll have coffee ready for you when you wake up,” he tells Cas when he stands and makes to go back to the couch, but Cas makes this hurt animal noise and Dean can't leave him when he's holding his hand out at him, begging him with his eyes to stay.

“Don't,” he says quietly and brokenly and Dean won't. Ever.

He lies down on the bed next to Cas, on his side so he can see him, see how his eyes roam over Dean's face and it makes his stomach twist.

“Cas-” he starts.

“I wanted to be you so badly when I was little. You were the coolest person ever and you spent so much time with me, it was amazing. But then you left and all I could think was 'don't leave me Dean, I don't want to be without you,' and it never stopped.” He reaches out and twines the hem of Dean's V-neck between his fingers, fingertips brushing against the skin of Dean's stomach. “The worst day in my life was when my dad told me I'd never see you again. The best was my graduation because there you were and I knew I'd never let you go again.”

“Cas,” Dean says and it's a plea for him to stop, just sleep and not think about these things because they're hurtful and Cas should never hurt. Never feel sad or pain or heartbreak, and it's all he's ever felt.

“You broke my heart when I saw you with that guy,” Cas says and his voice is thick and his face scrounges up like he's going to cry. “Because you want to kiss boys and you didn't pick me. And I've been in love with you for years. You didn't pick me,” he says and slides across the space between them and hides his face in Dean's shirt, stretching the fabric beyond it's ability.

“I always picked you,” Dean says and winds his fingers in Cas' perfect hair, tipping his head back and looking down at him, his eyes teary wet, like the spot of damp on the chest of Dean's shirt. “I always loved you and you were always my number one.”

And he brings their lips together and Cas gasps, but the kiss is chaste and soft and Dean loveslovesloves this young man so much he doesn't care that he corrupts his innocence because he always loved him and noone deserves him as Dean do.

“I'll never leave you again.”  


End file.
